


A Scholar’s Tale

by subcircus



Category: Highlander: The Series
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-11
Updated: 2011-03-11
Packaged: 2017-10-16 20:58:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/169290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/subcircus/pseuds/subcircus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Methos only wants a quiet life, but fate has other ideas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Scholar’s Tale

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chinae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chinae/gifts).



> Written for Highlander Holiday Shortcuts Sekret Santa exchange 2010. Given the following prompt:  
> Anything from the Chinese proverb site and apply it to HL  
> <http://en.wikiquote.org/wiki/Chinese_proverbs> . I chose this one: 星星之火可以燎原  
> (A spark can start a fire that burns the entire prairie)  
> 

It had been good to go home, to remind himself of where he had come from, but now Methos was glad to be back in Kemet. For one thing the weather was decidedly more to his liking than the cold, almost constant, rain of his homeland.

There had a been a change of ruler in Ta-Mehu; the Hyksos conquered the Delta region and gradually expanded their territory south, unchecked by a weak pharaoh in Ta-Shemau, but for the common man in Waset life went on much as before.

Although life had moved on, and several generations had passed since Methos last stepped foot in the city of the great god Amen, he was still able to make his way through the bustling streets and unerringly find his way to the temple. The people of Kemet did not like change, and the city of Waset had little changed in a millennium.

Methos returned to the temple of Amen, presenting himself to the head priest as Ahmose, great grandson of Amenhotep, the name Methos had been using when he was last there. He was welcomed with open arms as the descendant of a well-respected priest and swiftly inducted into the secret ways of the priesthood. They were impressed by his grasp of the sacred writing and his knowledge of the rites and rituals of the temple and he soon moved from novice to ‘pure one’, with all the duties and privileges that entailed, including freedom to move around the temple as he wished and access to the most secret chambers, including the library.

It was Methos’ intention to remain on holy ground for the foreseeable future, to stay away from other Immortals and from the distractions of life in general. He would immerse himself in texts; not only those of Kemet but also those documents he had gathered over the last few centuries from many different lands. He was content to live the peaceful life of a scholar and priest and let the world pass him by.

Sadly, even Methos’ plans sometimes go awry, and fate this time had something else entirely in mind for the old Immortal.

One day there was great commotion at the temple, rousing Methos from the papyri he was engrossed in. He left the library and made his way to the outer court, where the head priest Nebwenenef was instructing the lower ordered priests to lay a carpet over the cobbles.

“What’s going on, sir?” Methos asked him. Nebwenenef turned toward him and smiled.

“Ahmose, I was just about to send for you! We have joyous news. Our lord and ruler, Seqenenre, King of Ta-Shemau and Ta-Mehu, is to march forth and reclaim Ta-Mehu from the usurpers. And he is coming here, today, to select a priest to accompany him. I naturally thought of putting your name forward,” the High Priest explained excitedly.

“I’m most honoured that you would consider me, noble Nebwenenef, but surely there are more experienced men than myself?”

“Nobody in this temple knows the holy writing better than you. I am certain you would make the right offerings to ensure success. Besides, this is a mission from the gods themselves. Kemet should be unified, you cannot fail!”

Methos hoped that the king would decide to take a higher ranking priest, but he knew that the High Priest’s word would carry a good deal of weight and that he would most likely be honoured with accompanying the king’s army into battle.

He could simply run, leave Kemet, but he had only just returned and he liked the life he had made for himself. He could fake his death and move to another city; it was unlikely he’d ever meet anyone he knew, but that would mean leaving behind his precious library and who knew when he’d be able to return for them. It seemed to Methos that his most convenient option was to do as the king commanded and hope that no Immortal was on the battlefield.

The king chose Methos to accompany him, and so it was that he found himself outside the city walls of Hutweret, the Hyksos stronghold. The battle was long and many men on both sides died, but eventually Seqenenre was victorious. As a veteran of many wars, Methos knew that this was only the beginning, but he also felt that the invaders would eventually be driven out of Kemet.

He accompanied the king as he surveyed the battlefield, watching as the men cut off their trophies from the enemies they had killed. Methos winced as each member was removed, but then he had another cause to wince. Somewhere in amongst the wounded lay one with the promise of Immortality.

He scanned the field and spotted the potential; he fought for the Hyksos, though his skin was far paler. He was handsome, although that was marred slightly by an old wound that had scarred his face. Methos made his excuses and slipped away from the royal party and made his way toward the injured soldier. As he drew closer he could see that the man was mortally wounded, and that he would not last much longer.

Quickly Methos ordered two soldiers to carry the Hyksos to his tent. They were confused, but they didn’t dare disobey the priest. Once inside, Methos stripped and cleaned the man, before dressing him in a clean robe.

He did not take students, but he felt obliged to at least tell this poor soul what he was and the basics of the Game. He could not recall much of his early Immortality, but he did remember the pain and confusion he felt at not knowing the cause of it.

The figure on the floor stirred with a groan and then opened his eyes with a gasp. Instinctively, his hand went first to where his sword should have been and then to the place where he had been stabbed. He looked up at Methos, a wary mix of wonder and suspicion in his eyes.

“What magic is this, priest?” he demanded and Methos was interested to note that he did not sound afraid.

“No magic, my friend. You are just hard to kill, as are all our kind,” he replied. “There is much I must tell you. Please, come with me. My name is Methos,” he added, holding out his hand to help the soldier to his feet.

The soldier regarded him for a moment, clearly assessing Methos and what he had said. Seeming to decide to trust him, at least for the moment, the soldier allowed Methos to help him to his feet.

“Greetings, Methos. I am Kronos.”

 **FIN**

**Author's Note:**

>  _A/N: I’ve tried to marry historical fact with canon, the Hyksos ruled Upper Egypt for the period now known as the Second Intermediate Period, which is a little before the Horsemen formed. No teacher is listed for Kronos._


End file.
